


Alternates

by doobler



Series: The Stark-Strange Superfamily [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dimension Travel, Established Relationship, M/M, Romance, Superfamily (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-05
Updated: 2018-05-05
Packaged: 2019-05-02 10:16:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14542524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doobler/pseuds/doobler
Summary: After being punked by a lowbrow magician, Stephen finds himself falling through doors to otherwordly dimensions.How will he ever get home?





	Alternates

Stephen hated facing mystical adversaries.

It was ironic in a way. He loved elevating himself in both body and mind, training tirelessly to become the best sorcerer he could be. Facing others like himself, however, often spelled an accute headache and exhaustion. The same pomp and circumstance grew tiresome after the third act. It was hard to act mystified when he heard the same banter for the fifth time that day.

Stephen found himself roaming the halls of an opulent mansion, navigating all sorts of childish tricks. There were halls of mirrors, booby traps, optical illusions, the whole kit and caboodle. When he reached room number ten, he was officially done, rubbing at his temples with a deep scowl.

"Blah blah blah, I am the great Fantastico, yadda yadda yadda," Stephen mimicked, throwing open the door. "Can you maybe. Let me leave? I'm honestly just bored at this point."

Stephen found himself in an entirely new room. It was circular with plain walls and flooring. Multiple doors were the only other thing to be seen. Once he was fully in the chamber, the door behind him snapped shut. Stephen made a mental note of where he entered and considered his options.

"Either the way in is the way out or I need to try something new." He thought aloud.

Each door looked identical. Stephen waved his hand, knitting a magical lense to peer through any hidden spells or hexes. The doors were completely ordinary. Pursing his lips, he flicked his wrists upwards, summoning a more powerful iridescent screen. Still nothing. Wracking his brain, he squatted down and drew a complex hexagram with his fingers, painting the floor with glowing runes. The spell shimmered and sparkled, becoming solid for a split second before shattering completely. 

The room was clear.

Shrugging to himself, Stephen reached for the door to his immediate right, twisted the knob, and stepped through the barrier.

 

Stephen entered a warzone.

The air was thick was ash, heavy enough to blot out the sun. Debris and rubble filled every inch of his vision. It was as if a filthy filter had descended upon his eyes, making everything old and haggard, split by decay and destruction. Stephen twisted in place, looking for any signs of life. It was too quiet for his liking. 

Once his steps hit dirt, the door snapped shut and disappeared.

"Alright. I guess that's that then." Stephen commented aloud, now utterly stranded.

He picked a direction at random and began walking.

It was clear he was in a city of some kind. Buildings stood around him, though most were dilapidated, filled with rotting metalwork and broken glass. Signs of life were everywhere, though melancholy in their emptiness. The area had been inhabited once but now stood abandoned.

Corpses of every kind lined Stephen's path, mechanical and organic laying side by side. He recognized a few Sentinel shells, a sense of unease tickling at his heart. The Sentinels had been destroyed years ago, rendered a mass threat to humanity and mutant kind alike. How could they be here?

Stephen kept walking, his senses on high alert. He crooked his fingers, sending out an imperceptible wave of energy. When it bounced back, it confirmed he was alone.

He walked for a bit longer, scanning the area as best he could. Something kept him from taking to the air. It felt safer on the ground.

Just then, a high pitched whir filled the air. An orb the size of a car whizzed overhead, casting a wide beam of light. Despite its innocent design, a sense of malice and ill intent seemed to follow. Stephen hunkered down behind a broken car, watching closely.

The orb paused, snapping from side to side. It slowly floated to where Stephen was hiding, letting out sharp beeping noises as it moved. When its sight passed over him, the light changed from blue to red.

Before any alarms could go off, Stephen jumped from his spot, clenching his fists. He created a box of energy around the orb, sealing it tight. The drone screeched, charging up a powerful shot. Trapped within the magical confines, Stephen watched as it threatened to blow itself up. Despite the telltale plumes of smoke, once it cleared, the orb was still in pristine condition. Its weaponry was destructive but its casing was far superior.

Stephen maintained the box with one hand, raising the other to summon forth a massively condensed black hole. Before he could attack, a flash of light blinded him. He felt something grab at his back, tugging the Cloak and yanking him backwards. He was dragged between crumbled alleys and desecrated storefronts, into the dark alcove of an office building. Before he could even catch his breath, Stephen was manhandled through a hidden trapdoor, down into the building's underbelly. He was pushed against a wall, a rough hand clamping against his mouth.

Silence.

It took a while for his mystery savior to relax, slowly pulling their hand away. They stepped back, taking a moment to catch their breath.

"What kind of fucking idiot tries to fight a drone single handedly? Do you have a death wish or some shit?"

Stephen startled, trying his best to peer through the unending darkness to identify the man.

"... Tony? Is that you?"

The man gasped. It was quiet but so broken, so emotional, Stephen felt his heart clench. He grabbed Stephen by the shoulders, pulling the both of them into the light.

Tony looked like he'd been through hell.

A map of scars lined what skin was visible, one bisecting his right eyebrow. The eye itself was a startling bright blue. Upon closer inspection, Stephen realized it was fake. The hair at his temples were grey, deep lines carving under his eyes and at the corners of his mouth. His clothes were intact but clearly worn in places.

His entire right arm was a prosthetic.

"Oh my god,  _Tony._ " Stephen gasped, cradling the other man's face in his shaking hands.

"H-how? How is it  _you_?" Tony replied. He was trembling, his eyes drinking in what they could. "I. I watched you  _die."_

Stephen jumped slightly as Tony pulled him into a tight hug, rocking back and forth. He didn't cry but dry sobs fell from his lips.

"I have to be dreaming. I have to. This. This can't be real. I must be dead."

Before Stephen could pry, a loud noise echoed above them. Tony snapped to attention, reaching for Stephen's hand.

"We have to go," He urged, pulling the sorcerer along. "I'll take you somewhere safe."

 

"What happened?"

Stephen watched as Tony stoked the fire, a distant look in his eyes. They'd followed a labyrinthian channel of tunnels under the city until they found a safe alcove to set up in. Tony mentioned owning a map of low risk locations and this happened to be one of them. They sat amongst rubble and refuse, sitting close enough to feel each other's body heat without touching.

"An uprising," Tony replied, his voice hollow. "The government decided that accords couldn't be met and set out on a mutant genocide. The Avengers and the X-Men and the Fantastic Four fought against them but..."

Stephen watched as Tony seemed to deflate. He reached out, wrapping his scarred hands around Tony's metal one. 

"You said you ah. Saw me... Y'know." Stephen's voice was gentle.

"You. You fucking incredible man," Tony laughed but the sound was forced. "You saved this entire godforsaken planet. You... Converted every single cell in your body into its own nuclear bomb."

Stephen blinked owlishly. He was familiar with the process. Perhaps knowledge was shared with himself across alternate timelines.

"You destroyed-- absolutely fucking decimated the uprising's stronghold. You made sure the rest of us stood a chance."

"Your Stephen did," The sorcerer squeezed Tony's hand gently. "I'm--"

"From another universe, I know," Tony smiled. The barest hint of happiness shone through. "You look a little different from my Stephen. He was paler and his eyes were blue and he had his hair a little different."

"Did you two...?"

"No."

Stephen inhaled sharply. He became accutely aware of his two rings, both glittering gold in the firelight, resting against the back of Tony's hand. He watched as Tony lifted his arm, taking a moment to admire the rings. They were both beautiful, still so new and bright.

"I... Pepper and I got hitched a while ago but it didn't work out so well," Tony didn't make eye contact. "When we divorced, you-- Stephen was an incredible friend, always supportive and caring. We got close, went on a couple dates, but... I was too much of a fucking coward to really admit how I felt."

"I know for a fact he loved you, Anthony," Stephen swore. "It's like... Like some string of fate across time and space that somehow brings us together, even if the time is brief."

"Yeah?" Tony grinned, tilting his head in a charming manner. "That's... That's comforting to know. Is that how we found each other?"

Stephen suddenly sat up straight, his eyes wide and alert. Tony mirrored his movements, jerking his head back and forth. There was panic in his eyes, shielded but raw.

"It was an accident. I. I walked through this door and wound up here."

"Door?" Tony's brow furrowed. "Is it standard height, dark brown, kinda square shaped with a round silver handle?"

"Yes! Exactly!" Stephen shot to his feet. 

"That's how I found you-- it popped up outta nowhere so I started searching the area. I was worried it was some kind of ambush."

Tony stood, kicking dirt over the fire. It went out with a hiss, smouldering softly. Shouldering his backpack, Tony made quick work in dismantling their makeshift campsite. When he was satisfied with how it appeared, he started heading back the way they came. Stephen followed close by, matching his stride.

"Where are the others?" The sorcerer asked. "Cap? Rhodey? Sam? Bucky?"

"Cap and Sam are waiting for me at the nearby compound," Tony replied. There was a commanding tone to his voice. "Rhodey and Bucky..."

"I'm sorry."

Tony glanced at him, a flash of pain crossing his face. He slowed down a fraction once he realized he was nearly running. 

"We've lost a lot but the memories keep us going."

"What about Peter?"

Tony's stride faltered. He leaned against the wall for support, his breathing shallow and strained. Stephen was by his side instantly, his fingers ghosting over Tony's arms.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't. I didn't know. Breathe, Tony, breathe. Inhale, exhale."

Tony swallowed a few times, his throat flexing from the effort. Hot tears streamed down his face. He clenched his fist tightly, the strength of his prosthetic leaving an imprint in the brick. It took him a good while before he could right himself. Stephen could feel his body trembling through the ground.

"What. What is he to you?" Tony asked, his voice harsh.

"He's. We. He's our adopted son."

A high panicked noise dislodged itself from Tony's chest. Something halfway between a laugh and a sob escaped his lips.

"We found out he was a mutant," Tony was hyperventilating, the tears coming down even harder. "He. The bite didn't change him, the mutation was already in his DNA. They. They took him and experimented on him. His body is still alive but... Everything inside him is long dead."

Stephen swore his heart stopped. It was as if someone had forced burning hot lava down his throat and made him swallow. The realisation sat like concrete in his gut, wet and heavy. He had to stay strong, however, had to save face for Tony's sake. 

"I know I can't leave, this is my reality," Tony gasped. He was visibly trying to pull himself together, straightening his spine and clenching his teeth. "But I have to know he's safe."

"He is. Always. My Tony and I, we would die before we lost him. I swear upon my soul."

Squaring his shoulders, Tony nodded. He released his grip from the wall, inhaling sharply before he resumed his pace. Stephen stayed silent for the rest of the journey.

 

It didn't take long to locate the door. It stood out like an ugly wooden sore thumb. It sat like a grave marker at the opposite end of a dusty street, taunting the pair.

"Once you hit open air, you run," Tony instructed. They were biding their time, hiding in the narrow shelter between two abandoned shops. "Drones patrol here fucking constantly. There's a good chance you'll be spotted. If you book it, you'll be fine-- their sensors are slow from being online so damn long."

"Will you be okay?" Stephen met his eyes, balling his fists.

"You kidding me?" Tony chuckled. "I'm a fucking pro at this point. Don't even waste a single brain cell in that pretty little head of yours worrying 'bout me."

Stephen beamed. That sounded more like the Tony he knew and loved.

"Alright. Wish me luck."

Before Stephen could go, Tony reached out, grabbing a fistful of the sorcerer's tunic. His cheeks, weathered with age and strain, were flushed.

"You said that across universes, there's a string of fate that always connects us, right?" Tony's voice was quiet.

"Yes."

"So like... God, this goes against every scientific sensibility I fucking have-- it's like. We're. We're the both of us through time and space. The same... The same soul? In a way?"

Stephen's gaze softened. He moved in closer until their bodies were almost touching. Tony had to tilt his head up a fraction to meet his gaze.

"Yes, Anthony."

"Can. Can I kiss you goodbye?"

Taking Tony's face between trembling palms, Stephen dipped his head and graced his lips with a kiss. He could taste the affection, the bitter tears and longing. When he tilted his head, deepening the contact, Tony reached up to grip at the lapels of Stephen's Cloak. They stayed that way for a few moments, trapped in a kiss of boundless passion and reverence.

"Oh god, you kiss exactly like him," Tony sighed when they parted. "It's like it was just yesterday."

Stephen went to reply, only to be silenced by Tony's mouth against his. He felt Tony's tongue sweep his lower lip, begging for entrance. The kiss turned hot and languid, a meeting of bodies, hearts, and souls. The Cloak raised its hem, curling around Tony's back to draw him in. 

"Stephen, oh fuck,  _Stephen_."

The last kiss was delicate, feather-light. Tony's hands stroked up the column of Stephen's neck, carding through his hair and dragging down his cheeks. Stephen let his eyes flutter shut, leaning into the touch. An aching pain blossomed in his chest. He wished he could save every Tony in every reality, keep them all close and love them 'til the end of all things.

When Tony pulled away, there were tears clinging to his lashes. A cocktail of emotions waged war on his face. He settled on an affectionate smile, one that didn't hide the pain his eyes.

"Go. And make sure that asshole husband of yours treats you right."

Stephen beamed. He reached down to his belt, snapping off one of the strings of beads that hung from his waist. Tying it loosely around Tony's neck, he laid his fingers against the loop of leather and whispered an incantation. The necklace sparkled faintly and a healthy glow returned to Tony's cheeks.

"Keep this close," Stephen instructed. "It'll keep you safe."

Tony clenched his jaw, nodding once. Tears threatened to spill down his cheeks. He turned away from the open street, shoving his fists under his arms.

"Now go. If you wait any longer, I won't be able to let you leave."

Something unidentifiable fluttered in Stephen's chest. He huffed through his nose, hesitating a fraction before he broke into a run.

Overhead, a drone screeched.

It zipped behind him, charging up its weapon with a slowly rising whine. Stephen looked back but Tony was already gone. Lunging for the door, he wrenched it open and tumbled through the barrier.

He was back.

 

Stephen tried to pay more attention this time, looking at each door with a sharp sense of scrutiny. To his eyes, they were all still perfectly identical. It seemed there was an even chance of success. He didn't like those odds but there wasn't any other choice. Crossing the room, Stephen chose the door opposite of him. He opened it and stepped through.

At first glance, everything looked fine. The sky was blue, the air was fresh, the world wasn't on fire. Stephen let the door snap shut behind him, moving to further investigate.

He was on top of a rather tall building overlooking a city. There was a golden beachfront on one side and lush looking farmlands on the other. It could've been somewhere in California but something at the back of his mind said otherwise.

"Second time's the charm I guess."

Before Stephen could hop off the roof and flutter down to the city below, a sharp gust of air knocked him back. He wasn't sure how he'd missed the telltale whirr of helicopter blades. The craft hovered above him, training it weapons in his direction.

" _Hands in the air where we can see them!_ " Someone barked through an intercom.

"I'm sure this is a misunderstanding!" Stephen yelled back, raising his arms. "I'm Doctor Stephen Strange! I work for the Aveng--"

Stephen let out a cry as searing hot pain coursed through his body. He dropped to the ground, convulsing against the concrete. He could hear someone drop out of the helicopter, making their way towards him. He saw a flash of dark colored boots before he passed out, the world swirling into nothingness around him.

 

Stephen woke up angry.

Already, he'd had to deal with some piece of shit excuse for a sorcerer and an alternate version of his lover, post-apocalypse. Now, he was strapped to an uncomfortable metal chair, stripped down to his pants and boots, his beloved Cloak missing and a stinging soreness stuck to his bones.

Rolling his neck, he tried to figure out where he was. The room was small, covered in rough metal flooring and equally drab metal walls. He was facing the door, his ankles, wrists, thighs, and waist locked tight against the chair. Huffing harshly through his nose, Stephen ran through his options. 

Without his rings, he couldn't portal his way out. He could do magic without the full usage of his hands but then what? He still had no clue where he was. Whoever had taken him brought him alive, meaning his continued existence was important somehow. Stephen decided then that the best course of action was to wait.

After what felt like ages, the door opened.

"You're a difficult man to find when you don't want to be found, Strange."

For a moment, Stephen entertained the thought that he'd finally gone to Hell.

The figure who walked in was none other than Tony himself. He had a lattice of scars over one eye (oddly enough, not the same eye as post-apocalypse Tony) and wore a sharp lined uniform. Clad in all black, he stood stiff as a board, regarding Stephen with a vengeful gaze. His hair was slicked back, shaved close at the sides, and his iconic goatee was entirely missing.

Sewn onto the front pocket of his jacket was the Hydra insignia.

"What the actual fuck." Stephen spat.

"It's been ages, hasn't it?" Tony purred, his smirk widening. "You're looking good. A little soft around the middle but that's what married life does to you. Who's the lucky fella?"

"Eat my entire fucking ass."

Tony tutted. He stepped forward and, like a strike of lightning, cracked his hand across Stephen's cheek. The sound echoed, making the sorcerer's head spin.

"Where are the others?" Tony demanded. He bent at the waist, lowering himself to eye level. "We know you weren't alone. Reconnaissance caught you sneaking off with your fellow stinking superhero rats. Where are they?"

"Fucking bite me." Stephen repeated, clenching his jaw.

Tony stood up straight. His eyes were cold, so cold, like the deepest pits of empty space. He pursed his lips in a mocking display of pity. The next slaps were hard and fast, coming in rapid succession.

"I've waited years for this," Tony seethed. "Words can't describe how satisfying it is to see tears down that fucking ugly face of yours."

"I can't relate," Stephen gasped, working his jaw back into place. "I'm not the Strange you're looking for, you fucking backwash of humankind."

Tony raised his hand, reeling back. He hesitated, the ice in his gaze defrosting slightly. Lowering his hand, he bent down again, searching Stephen's face.

"... You aren't lying." 

Snapping back up, Tony smothered the emotion in his voice. He narrowed his eyes, watching Stephen closely.

"Why did you come here?" He asked.

"I didn't. I... Wound up here. I'm getting punked by some fucking amateur wizard. If you can help me find a certain door, I can be gone and dead to you, posthaste."

"... Is this door squarish, brown, wooden, with a silver handle?"

Stephen's eyes lit up. He sat straighter, trying to keep the optimism out of his voice.

"Yes. Exactly."

Tony steepled his fingers, pressing them against his lips. He watched Stephen with detached interest. 

"I have to say, this is a major disappointment," Tony's voice was low, tinged with rage. "I was hoping the prey I'd searched so long for was finally in my grasp."

"What did this universe's Strange do to you, dump your sorry fucking ass?"

Stephen startled as Tony punched a hole through the wall, piercing the thick layer of metal with his bare fist. His gaze was burning, his lips pulled back in an animalistic snarl. 

"You abandoned me, threw me out like trash, like every fucking person before you did." Tony growled. A chilling sense of mania was laced into every syllable. "You fuckers left me to ROT and DIE! The Avengers, world's mightest fucking heroes, couldn't even lift a goddamned FINGER to save the man they called their  _friend_."

Tony withdrew his hand from the wall, bringing a tangle of wires with it. They sparked and fizzled loudly, casting a show of light and shadow across the room. If the electricity hurt Tony, he didn't show it for a split second.

"Hydra took me and drilled fucking holes into my brain and strung me out until I was begging for the sweet release of death. I was so eager to walk into the arms of the devil himself and guess what?  _You bastards left me to fucking die_."

Stephen watched, agony gripping like a vice around his heart. Tony threw the wires back into the wall, anger rolling off his body in waves. His breathing was silent but he appeared to gradually calm down. When the rage abided, it was replaced with icy calm.

"Dumping me is a little too gentle for my tastes."

"Tony, I'm sorry," Stephen urged, leaning forward in his seat. "That was this reality's Strange that did this to you-- I have my own world, my own Tony that I need to get back to. I. I would help you if I could but you know I physically can't."

Tony regarded him, silent as the dead. After a moment's contemplation, he let out an empty laugh, shaking his head.

"Even after all I've been through, you still make me fucking feel. Incredible."

Tony lifted his cuff to his mouth. The quiet feedback of a comm relay crackled from his wrist.

"Coulson, get me Strange's belongings and bring them to sector V-9. Speak to no one or I'll have your head. Copy?"

Stephen was unmoving as Tony released his bonds. Rubbing his wrists to encourage circulation, he met Tony's gaze.

"Why?"

Sighing softly, Tony didn't flinch. Something unnameable lingered at the back of his eyes.

"You remind me of who he was."

 

Sector V-9 was an abandoned aircraft hangar. At the end of the room was the door, taunting Stephen with its mere existence. He let Tony lead him across the floor, tugging on the cuffs that bound him. When he was sure they weren't spotted, Tony unlocked the restraints and passed Stephen his things.

"What do you plan on doing if you ever catch the others?" Stephen asked, pulling on the many layers of his tunic.

"I'm not sure. My orders are simply to capture them. What Hydra has in mind isn't privy to me."

Stephen sighed. Of all the garbage universes he had to tumble into, this one was definitely the worst. Smoothing the creases in his Cloak, Stephen slipped on his rings. A faint feeling of relief caressed his heart once his engagement and wedding bands sat upon his finger.

"Is it good?"

Stephen looked up, shocked by the openly earnest look on Tony's face

"Is what good?"

"Marriage."

Stephen lowered his head, laughing softly.

"Good is a little too gentle, I think."

"Stark! What on Earth are you doing?"

The duo turned to the hangar's entrance. They'd been followed after all. Stephen recognized Natasha, Sam, and Wanda. The image of them clad in matching Hydra uniforms would no doubt haunt his nightmares for a good long while.

Stephen moved to summon a weapon, only for Tony to hold him back. He reached for his belt, plucking what looked like a nighstick from its holster. When he snapped his wrist, it elongated into a staff, fizzling with bright static.

"Get the hell out of here," Tony commanded, taking an offensive stance. "I'll hold them off."

"Anthony, they'll kill you."

Tony managed a small smile. The gesture reached his eyes, bringing forth a warmness Stephen didn't think was possible. 

"I missed hearing you say my name."

With that, Tony shoved him towards the door. Natasha and the others broke into a sprint, crossing the hangar in mere seconds. Tony caught Sam in the ribs with the edge of his staff, sending him flying. Natasha took his place, driving a knife towards Tony's face. He sidestepped the blow, jabbing at her gut. 

"GET OUT OF HERE!" Tony yelled, barely blocking a swipe to the head.

Stephen slammed into the door, passing across the barrier just as a bolt of crimson energy flew at his head. He closed the door with his shoulder, falling to his knees.

Back to square one.

 

Stephen sat cross-legged in the center of the room, the Cloak hovering just behind him. He tried meditating but visions of a broken city and traitorous friends kept dashing his concentration. Propping up his chin against his fist, he regarded the room.

"So. One of these doors is the one I entered through," Stephen flicked his wrist. A bright orange sigil bloomed on one of the doors, followed by two more. "Two of them, I've already tried. There are nine in total, meaning I haven't tried six of them. However, I have no proof that one, each has an equal probability of being the correct choice and two, that they play fairly. For all I know, they could be shuffling around and I've actually just tried the same door three times."

Stephen groaned, burying his face in his hands. He should've listened to Wong and taken the interplanar sorcerer's meeting instead. He would've been done by now, probably on his way to pick up Peter for lunch. The teen was eager to show Stephen his favorite ramen shop where you could order bottomless gyoza for only three dollars per person. He could taste it already, beef and spring onions with a cold glass of beer and a deep bowl of noodles.

"Okay. Enough moping."

Stephen rose to his feet, not even flinching as the Cloak snapped back into place across his shoulders. Clapping his hands together, he regarded each door, twisting in a slow circle. When his gut tensed up and his heart jolted, he stopped. The door he stopped at was between two of his sigils. 

"Welp. Here goes nothing."

He opened the door and prepared for the worst.

 

Stephen was in the Sanctum. At least it felt like it.

He closed the door softly behind him, taking it all in. Something in his head, probably instinct, told him he was in the Sanctum. Everything felt off though. The colors were wrong, the furniture was different, some of the Relics on display were entirely unfamiliar, and the very air smelled odd.

Stephen made his way through the second floor, his senses on high alert. Every creaking floorboard had him on edge, hackles raised, teeth bared. He felt like an abused animal, afraid and ready to fight. Slinking down the stairs to the foyer, he made sure to check behind him after every step. He'd been ambushed enough today and wasn't looking to make it a lucky number three.

"How did you enter this sacred place?"

Stephen stopped at the front door, his fingers pressed against the wood. A chill of familiarity ran down his spine. Turning slowly, he looked up at where the voice was coming from.

Tony looked like a dream. He wore a slim fitting three piece suit, the jacket and slacks a soft cream, the shirt underneath a pale gold. The Cloak around his shoulders was navy blue, not red, with the collar popped high and the hem long. His hair was artfully tousled, his goatee perfectly maintained, his smirk sly and confident.

Stephen almost cried on the spot.

"Anthony," He sighed, crossing the floor to meet him. "You couldn't possibly believe the fucking day I've had."

"Do I know you?" Tony replied, quirking his brow.

"Oh. I. Huh. Its... Complicated," Stephen sighed, his hopes dashed. "I'm Doctor Stephen Strange. I'm--"

"Yeah, duh, no shit," Tony scoffed, rolling his eyes. When he stepped closer, it was clear this universe's Tony was taller than Stephen's own. They nearly stood eye to eye. "I meant-- you're not from this reality."

"Oh. Yes, I'm. Yeah." 

Tony cocked an eyebrow, smiling playfully. He emanted an air of cool charm, still snarky and sarcastic but at ease. Stephen was mystified. He'd met many alternates of Tony in parallel timelines but this one was easily the most put together. Waving his hand, Tony gestured for Stephen to follow.

"I'm being pranked by this douche bag hack of a magician," Stephen explained, clambering up the stairs. "He's an absolute amateur but somehow gained possession of highly powerful interdimensional doorways-- literal doors. I've been hopping between them for hours now, maybe even days. It's hard to tell."

Stephen suddenly found himself nestled in a soft arm chair, a mug of tea in his hands. Tony sat across from him, listening intently. 

"Well you're lucky you wound up here," Tony grinned. "A weird door popped up in the upper wing. I had to leave a meeting early to check it out when I saw you heading downstairs."

"Joy. I get to continue this fucking song dance yet again."

Tony fixed him with an odd look, sipping from his own glass. It looked to be some amber liquid, probably whiskey. Stephen found himself sighing. He missed the Tower, his own Sanctum, the rush of New York, his family. After a moment, Tony shifted in his seat, crossing his legs and steepling his fingers.

"What am I like in your world? I've never left my own reality so I'm. Y'know. Curious."

"You're a brilliant inventor," Stephen gushed. "One of the best men I've ever had the honor to know. Loyal. Sarcastic. Hilarious. Kind-hearted. A real diamond in the rough. You make me proud to be your husband."

Tony spat out his drink in a wave of mist, his eyes wide and panicked. He dabbed at his mouth with the back of his hand, sweeping droplets of whiskey from his goatee.

"I'm sorry-- what the  _fuck_  was that last part?" His voice went high at the end, twisting upward.

"... We're married?"

Tony laughed. It sounded forced, unnaturally syllabic with an odd tone. He set aside his drink and it vanished instantly.

"No. No, no, no. Nuh uh. No way in hell would I marry fucking  _Stephen Strange,"_  He guffawed. "He and I are like water and oil. Peanut butter and mayo. Nicholas Cage and good acting. No fucking way, not in a hundred years."

"You have a crush on him."

Tony shot out of his seat in a flash. He raised a finger, pointing it at Stephen's chest in an accusational manner. There were multiple attempts to speak, his jaw flexing, his brow knitting in an angry furrow. After floundering for a solid minute, he sat back down with a huff.

"Nice fuckin' try there, magic man," Stephen drawled, smirking playfully. "I know that look on your face. I do the same thing when I see my own Tony."

Tony groaned, making a noise akin to a tire releasing air.

"Every Tony I've met-- you're, what. Number seven now? Every Tony I've met has been in love with his own Stephen. Every single one. Like clockwork." Stephen puffed out his chest with a satisfied smile.

"Yeah? And does every Stephen love him back?" 

Stephen deflated slightly. He'd never met another version of himself. Only Tony.

"... Yes," He replied, clenching his fists. "I know it in my soul. Every Stephen loves his Tony to death." 

Inhaling slowly, Tony rose from his seat. He wandered off into another wing of the Sanctum, returning a moment later. He held up a key, one with a simplistic design. It was made of a dark metal, smooth and non-reflective.

"What's that?" Stephen asked.

"Your ticket home," Tony responded smoothly. "I just need some of your DNA and this baby'll become its own dowsing rod for your home universe."

Stephen stood, reaching up to card his hand through his hair. Tony tutted loudly, shaking his head.

"I'll need something more... Substantial. Internal."

"... You want me to suck on it or...?"

"N-no," Tony stammered, holding out the key towards Stephen's face. "Just. Spit on it or something."

Licking his lips, Stephen leaned forward and placed a delicate kiss against the key. He could feel the curve of Tony's finger under his mouth, warm and trembling. When he pulled back, the otherwordly sorcerer was blushing.

"That was really fucking unnecessary." Tony balked, flipping up his collar with an indignant pout.

"Yeah, but you've always had a flair for the dramatic."

Tony huffed, leading the way to the Sanctum's topmost level. Waiting there, like a stalwart sentry, was the door. Stephen was sure he'd have door related nightmares for a week after the fact. He gripped the handle, taking the key from Tony's hand.

"Hopefully your day goes better after this," He smiled, crossing his arms. "Maybe slapping that asshat magician around will help cheer you up."

"You kidding me?" Stephen snorted. "I plan on going home and passing out immediately. Some other unfortunate bastard can take him down."

They shared a laugh, cutting off abruptly when someone's voice echoed from downstairs. Stephen's eyes went wide when he realized it was him, or at least this reality's version of him. He never knew his voice was so deep.

"Go ask him out." Stephen urged.

Tony looked panicked, twiddling his thumbs. He pursed his lips, sniffling loudly and fiddling with his cuffs. When he realized Stephen's smile was genuine, he relaxed a fraction.

"What if he says no?" Tony begged.

"He won't."

"Okay, but what if he does."

"Trust me," Stephen's voice was firm but encouraging. "He'll say yes."

With a sharp sigh, Tony forced a smile before strutting off, silhouetted by the flash of his Cloak. Stephen watched him go, a blanket of happiness settling acorss his shoulders.

Throwing open the door, he stepped through with optimism blooming in his chest.

 

Stephen walked into his waking nightmare, gripping the key tightly in his hand. He held out his palm, waiting for a sign. The key sparkled and glowed, throwing off flashes of glitter. It vibrated gently against Stephen's skin before floating in the air. Stephen was unsurprised that sorcerer Tony's magic would be so flashy. Zooming from his hand, the key shot up towards the ceiling. Once it embedded itself into the brick, the outline of a door began showing through. 

Sure enough, a secret tenth door had been hiding in plain sight, grafted just above Stephen's head.

"Cap owes me big time," He growled, rising off the ground. "I'm calling in a favor so he can snap that bastard's neck with his bare hands."

Climbing through the door, Stephen found himself in the heart of Central Park. The sky was clear, the air warm, an all-around lovely Summer afternoon. Based on the sun's position, it seemed to be just before noon. Breathing in deeply, Stephen painted himself a portal into the Tower. He set out to get dressed, eager to pick Peter up from Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters.

He had lunch plans.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are always appreciated!  
> Come say hi to me over at doobler on tumblr!!!


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